


Coming Home

by Theriverwatcher



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Are you human?, Episode: s06e07 A Good Man Goes to War, F/M, First Time, Older River, POV River, Sex, Temporal energy, Who are you River, Younger Doctor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 11:41:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theriverwatcher/pseuds/Theriverwatcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re not possible.” He whispered, watching the energy radiate off her skin. “You shouldn’t even exist.”<br/>“Yet,” she smiled, “here I am.”<br/>He kissed her again and she could feel it now, full and unadulterated. His timeline pulsed, swelling outside its normal size  sending calls to her. It wrapped and twisted around them as he lowered her back onto the bed, covering her body with his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

Coming Home

 

“The voyage of discovery is not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.”

– Marcel Proust

 

 

            The bars slid shut in front of her, punctuating her refusal with a heavy rattle that echoed down the corridor. River stared back at her father, watching as his face fell, eyes softening and wrinkling at the corners as he realized that she, River Song, would not help him rescue his wife and daughter. He, of course, didn’t know how the story ended, not yet. But soon.

            “Right…” Rory blinked at her, backing away from her cell. “Sorry,” River stepped forward, wrapping a hand around the bars. If she could only touch him, she thought, then he would know. She wasn’t abandoning him, not really.

“Rory…”  He raised his hands to cut her off and her voice faded.

“No, don’t… just…” his voice cracked then and River saw the shimmer in his eyes just before he turned away.

She exhaled, head falling forward against the cool steel as she listened to his footsteps disappear down the hallway. And if a tear slipped from the corner of her eyes, well then, there wasn’t anyone around to give away her little secret now, was there?

            _Damn him,_ River thought, the Doctor’s face flashing before her eyes as she wearily unpinned her hat and tossed it toward her cot. She tugged at the buttons of her bodice, the strings on her skirt, the laces on her corset, peeling the fabric from her body and dropping it at her feet. Damn him for giving her no warning, for dropping her off with no indication as to who would be waiting for her. Damn him for sending Rory in the first place. Damn him for being so certain that she would help, that he didn’t think it necessary to come himself.

            She cursed him even as she reached into her pocket and unfurled the silken robe he’d given to her not four hours earlier. Pulling it over her shoulders, she cinched it tightly around her waist. The fabric hugged her in an artificial embrace, engulfed her in his scent, the heavy musk of his body after running or dancing or lovemaking.

            Three hours ago, _three hours ago,_ she was skating circles around him. Her breath puffed out in fog as she declared it her best birthday to date, just as she did every year so she could see that smug grin slanted in her direction and watch him stand a little straighter than he had the minute before. She’d pressed a kiss to his cheek and skated off.

            River tried not to remember. She tried to sever the evening’s festivities, from her exchange with Rory. No need letting it spoil her night. Oh, but it was hard, and she found herself knelt over her footlocker shoving the mass of taffeta skirts and cotton petticoats as far to the bottom as she could reach without climbing in herself. She’d prefer not to see that dress for another 300 hundred years at least.

            She was still hunched over the footlocker when the unmistakable _vroop vroop_ of the TARDIS called behind her. She tensed, anticipating which Doctor would emerge from within. Would it be a younger Doctor? Face flushed with anger come to chastise her for her stubbornness? Or an older Doctor, _her_ Doctor, come to apologize for sending her into the unknown without so much as a spoiler? Seconds passed and still the door did not open and River shoved at the taffeta more forcefully. If he wanted to speak to her he was going to have to come out and get her himself. He couldn’t expect to be able to just appear outside her cell and have her jump at his command, not tonight.

            She heard the door open and shut, his boots tapping on the concrete floor and pausing at the front of her cell. Still, she refused to turn around. Not until she was satisfied with the state of her footlocker.

            “So?” She said when it finally became clear he wasn’t going to speak first. Her voice sounded harsher than she’d anticipated, but she couldn’t say that she felt sorry for it.

            “Sooo…” he drew out and River knew that he was swaying on his feet, bouncing on his toes even before she turned around. She was right. He stood, pressed to the bars, fingers clenching at the metal so hard his knuckles were white. His eyes were wide and sparkled at her with undiluted _excitement._ He very nearly looked like a child on his first visit to the zoo.

            Oh, she gasped, _oh_. Not young or old but… Demon’s Run. _Of Course._

            River felt the air deflate from her lungs. _Not done yet, Song._ She squeezed her eyes shut as she flipped the lock on her footlocker. It was more difficult than usual to shove everything down deep within her and find her voice, to become the River Song he was expecting her to be.

            The bars slid open behind her. He stepped closer and the fine hairs along her neck and arms stood on end. A shiver danced alone her spine. He was standing over her, she could feel it, feel her body’s reaction to him being so close and finally she lifted her head and flashed a dutiful smile.

            “Hello, Sweetie.” And just like that the excitement fizzled. He eyed her with a sedate gaze, trying to read whatever emotion that was etched into her features. It was a skill he hadn’t yet mastered. “Exciting day?”

            He gave a short huff, “trying,” then his eyes softened, “ended nicely though.”

“Yea?”

“Yea.” She reached up to him and he helped her to her feet. His head tilted as he examined her, really looked at her for the first time, and when he leaned into her she could feel her hearts speed up. “River Song, you never cease to amaze me” he whispered over her hair.

            She rolled her eyes, “well someone’s got to keep you on your toes,” she felt a soft smile tug at her lips as her body stilled, his proximity easing her anger and brushing it aside. She could never stay mad at him for long.

            He pulled back then, looking down at where her hand was still cradled in his, “I wouldn’t have sent him if I had known,” he muttered, fingers gravitating toward the sleeve of her robe, rubbing the soft fabric between his thumb and forefinger. She watched him, “I know,” she sighed. “It doesn’t matter.” It was a lie. They both knew it, but neither said anything. Instead, they watched his hands trace the water colored flowers that decorated the edge of her robe.

            “I like this,” he said softly after a while, grinning down at her.

            “It was a present,” she said, watery eyes lifting to him and a soft, sad smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, “today is my birthday.”

            His eyes twinkled at her, effervescent with new knowledge. “I know.”

 

****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

The twinkle faded into nervousness. The knowledge dimmed into hesitancy and the Doctor anxiously followed her into the TARDIS. The inside glowed warm and gold, sending a soft pulse through River’s body and encasing her heart in a gentle warmth.  “So, ah… where… where would you like to go?”

“Oo,” she hummed, hands brushing over the console keys in a soft hello before turning and leaning playfully against the edge. “Lady’s choice is it?” She smiled at the Doctor, who stood timidly by the door as if trying to keep as much distance between them as possible. River’s smile tensed, suddenly wishing for a do over. He avoided her gaze, eyes focused instead on the spot on the console where her hands pressed against the flat top, restless fingers scratched over his cheek. The excitement from not ten minutes before dimmed the shadow of her unhappiness.

“Well, I … um…” He ambled toward the console, flicking absently at stray levers. “I was thinking we might go see the northern lights of Bellatron. They are particularly vibrant during the winter of 1247, but… but if you’d prefer…” She stopped him, a hand curling around his bicep and running her thumb over the tweed of his jacket.

“That sounds lovely, darling.” She noted with a bit of satisfaction that some of the nervous energy faded from his frame.

“Yea?” His eyebrow crooked as he tilted his head in her direction.

She nodded, a stray curl falling into her eyes as she bit her lower lip. She could feel her cheeks redden under his stare.

“Have you ever been before?”

“Not at all.”

He grinned at her. “It’s beautiful.” His hand lifted, hovering a bit over her shoulder as if anxious to touch her but thinking the better of it and reaching around her to press a button on the other side of the console. Even then his chest brushed against her shoulder, and her skin prickled.  She angled her head up to him, reveling in the feel of his breath as it skimmed across her neck, and if he had been _her_ Doctor, he wouldn’t have been able to resist pressing his lips to the curve of her jaw. But he wasn’t her Doctor, not yet, and even though she saw the desire flash through is his eyes, he pulled away from her. River sighed, a chill running over her skin in his absence, and hoisted herself onto the console.

The air hung heavy between them and try as she might, River couldn’t think of anything to say to alleviate the tension. So she didn’t say anything. Instead, she left him to drink her in at his own pace, which seemed to be his preference. He was standing behind her now, loitering above the coordination keyboard so that he could watch her from around the curve of the time rotator despite the fact that it was long since time to engage the vortex abrasion alerts on the other end of the consol. River hefted a dramatic sigh and smooth her robe over her legs before leaning over and punching at the matching red buttons. Her finger nails picked over the edge of the button a second or two before venturing to peek at him through her curls. Their eyes met just briefly before he flushed and he looked away, fascinating himself with the monitor.

She gave a low chuckle. It was an ego boost after all, making the most extraordinary man in all the Universe blush like a school boy. It never did get old.

“Really sweetie,” she crooned, swinging her legs wildly in front of her, “are you going to stare at me as though I’m the latest exhibit at the Smithsonian? Or are you actually going to talk to me?” She cast her words into the room before her, wondering if the spell would take even with her back turned. It did. She heard the determined click of his shoe against the glass floor. Then another, slowly moving around the consol. Behind her the time rotator buzzed and whirred with life.

“What would you like me to say?”

She shrugged, “Ask me a question. You have a million floating around in your head right now. I can practically see them.”

His eyes brightened a bit. “What about your spoilers?”

He was finally close enough for her to touch him, and she indulged herself, reaching out to brush soft fingers over his cheek. “If I can answer at all, I will. I don’t like spoilers any more than you do, my love.”

“Why do I get the feeling that’s a lie?” His tone was teasing, but the sideways glance he sent her, told her he wasn’t entirely joking.  As he spoke, he cupped her hand and pressed it against his cheek, then moved away. His skin burned an imprint in the center of her hand, and she cradled it in her lap, fingers absently stroking at her palm as she watched him circle her.

“All right then,” her heart quickened at the confidence in his voice, “just how human are you?”

She laughed, “That’s not what you want to know.”

He stopped next to her, having completely circled the console once, and leaned forward, hands flat and splayed amid the buttons and levers. River’s eyes slid to them, cheeks flushing as she remembered what those hands could do, had done. “Maybe not, but that’s the question I asked.” She looked back up at him, mind struggling to remember what they were talking about and thinking of all the way she could make him feel better that didn’t include talking.

“Dumb question.” His eyes narrowed at her and she rolled hers in acquiescence, “I was born to two human parents, my criminal record at Stormcage classifies me as homosapien. I would suppose that makes me _very_ human.”

He straightened suddenly so that they were eye to eye, “But…”

“Not the answer you were expecting?” She crossed her arms over her chest, eyebrows raised innocently.

“Vastra said… the scans…”

“That I had an additional strand of Timelord DNA embedded into the double helix?”

 “Is it true?”

She considered him for a moment, watching the battle rage within him. She had never known him like this, the lonely man that he was before they met. He’d told her, of course, many times. He’d whispered it into the darkness of their bedroom as his body entwined with hers. His salvation, that was what he always called her, “because it is hard to be the last of your kind, River. It can destroy you if your not careful.” And here he was right before her, the Last Timelord. He’d been alone so long he didn’t dare hope that it might change now.

River felt her hearts thump in her chest; she could hear the rush of blood through her veins. It was so loud it was near deafening. This close she could smell him, the temporal energy lifting off his skin, tugging at the periphery of her mind and begging to make itself known.  

“You tell me,” she whispered, rolling her tongue across her lips to dampen them before leaning in and pressing them against his.

It was a soft kiss. Chaste. No need to start him in the deep end, but when she pulled away she could tell her point was well taken. She watched his tongue run across his bottom lip, catching the remnants of her taste on his skin. The effect was instantaneous. His pupils dilated, so much so that the hazel irises almost completely disappeared.  “Well?”

He was so close now, his breath blowing puffs of air across her cheek. His lips parted as if to answer, but he didn’t speak, not right away at least as his eyes scanned her face, futilely trying unravel the enigma before him. “You,” his voice was harsh and he stopped to swallow, his breath stuttering when he did. “You taste like Gallifrey.”

She grinned, no teasing, no mystery, just bliss. No matter how many times he’d told her, she had never really understood, not until that moment. She never knew how much she actually did mean to him. “So I’ve always been told.”

He moved closer to her then, impossibly close. Lips hovered over hers, noses caressing just barely and she longed to close the gap between them. But it wasn’t a kiss he was after, not yet. He was searching, still, for that familiar taste,  that scent that he had once thought lost. He was watching her, eyes fixed hesitantly on hers as his tongue flicked across her bottom lip. River stilled at the sensation.  

His head lowered and he repeated the action, bolder this time. His tongue glided across her mouth, sliding along the curve of her bottom lip and pressing against the fold before pulling back. Her eyes fell shut, waiting. His chest rose and fell fast now, matching pace with her own. She could hear him lick his lips and swallow, struggling to find air before he descended again.  His tongue pressed at the part of her lips and this time she opened to him and he took the invitation. His tongue slipped inside, moving across her teeth, the roof of her mouth, tasting her. River’s fingers curled around the edge of the console, struggling to remain still as he continued to discover her, but when she felt his fingertips, feather light, pressing against the tops of her thighs, urging her legs apart so that he could step between them, she lost her fight.  Her tongue rose to meet his and was greeted by the soft zap of his temporal energy sparking as it rose in his system. Temporal exchange, sacred to the Time Lords, deadly to humans. The Doctor groaned at the new contact and closed what little space remained between them, lips pressed hard to hers as he sought her tongue with his own. A hand, threaded into her hair, held her securely to him while he rucked the hem of her robe up her thigh, searching for skin. He cradled her as if she were in danger of fading away, kissed her as though he could imprint himself on her, and she returned the kiss with equal fervor, solid and unyielding.

He broke the contact, gasping and peppering firm kisses to the corner of her mouth, her jaw, her neck, and nuzzling at her throat before tensing.

_Double Pulse_.

“How did I not realize?” he mumbled into her neck.

“Because you weren’t supposed to.” She shifted against him, pushing him back just enough to lift her arms over her head. The silken fabric rubbed luxuriously against her sensitive skin, brushing against raised nipples. Nimble fingers rummaged through her curls, plucking at a final hairpin and unleashing a mass of curls cascading down her back.

The air shifted around them, suddenly and forcefully. Their energies aligned with each other and reached forward, yearning for contact. River’s mouth went dry. The Doctor’s eyes widened. He caught her wrist and bent to examine the hairpin still wrapped in her fingers.

“Bio dampener” she offered. Eyes cut to her and back. A tongue ran out at the corner of his mouth and River wondered if he could still taste her lingering on his skin.

“Whose idea was this?”

Her lips curled though apprehension clouded his features. “Yours of course.”

His eyes squeezed shut, “of course,” he repeated. He wavered for a moment, unable to decide between leaning into her once more and pulling away. Eventually, he pressed a kiss to her forehead before dropping his head and resting his brow against hers.

With one hand still caught in his, River snaked her other arm around his waist, pulling him close to her, unnerved by the solemnity of his reaction. 

“River, why are you here?” He was pulling away from her then, untangling their arms and stepping out of her embrace.

Her heart squeezed at the rejection, but she flashed a smile nonetheless. It didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well sweetie, I was hoping that I’d get lucky tonight. Think you could help with that?” He flinched and she felt panic tremor through her body as she watched his head drop to his hands, fingers digging into tired eyes.

“You shouldn’t be here, River. You should be very, very far from here. From me.” River stared back at him, speechless. She widened her eyes, battling the familiar burn from earlier that evening return. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, she thought, he was supposed to be pleased, _excited._ He wasn’t alone, not anymore. Why couldn’t he just…

“Doctor—“

“It’s all because of me. What they did to you at Demon’s Run. Taken from your parents, Greystark, Florida, the terrified little girl in the space suit. River, it’s all because of me. I’ve ruined your life. You should be running as far away from me as you can get.” He slumped into the jump seat, a tired, old man.

It took her a moment to convince her hearts to calm. She could handle this. She had pulled him back from much worse, and this would be no different. Except that it was. All those other times it was him against the world. Now he was pitting him against her, daring to suggest it impossible for them to both exist together, happy. Slowly, she slid off the console, straightened her robe and fluffed her hair. She took a quick glance at her reflection in darkened monitor screen before turning back to him.

His head hung over his lap, elbows pressed into his knees. “For 300 years I wandered all over this universe,” she finally spoke and saw his shoulders tense at the sound of her voice. “The exceptional Melody Pond. Stronger than most, quick and cleaver, two hearts. I can even read time.” She shrugged, moving toward him “Being exceptional is overrated. It’s lonely and isolating. Most days come and go with no real challenge and when there is, well, there isn’t someone there to share in the victories. There is no one to tell your secrets to…” her voice dropped to a whisper, “I’ve never felt like that with you, with _her_ —“she gestured around her. “The first time I met you it was like I finally belong somewhere.” She stopped before him then, cupping his long chin in the palm of her hand and lifting it up to her. Her other hand pressed into his shoulder, massaging small circles into tired muscles. “I think you can imagine what a very powerful feeling that is, yea? Realizing you are not alone in the universe?”

His eyes shimmered in the TARDIS’ golden light, throat constricting as he struggled to swallow. Finally, he gave a sharp jerk of his head, unable to summon actual words. River couldn’t help but wonder if this wasn’t the first. The first _him_ he’d let her see. She pulled him close then, curling around him and resting her cheek against the top of his head as she felt a soft exhale puff against her chest. She sighed into the embrace, the warmth of it, the familiar way their bodies fit together. Fingers threaded through his hair, stroking long lines at the nap of his neck. His hand found its familiar place wrapped around the curve of her hip—the first time of many that it would nestle there—and gave a gentle squeeze.

“Come with me, my love.” She whispered over him, reaching around and wrapping her fingers around his wrist.  

****************************************************************************************************************************************************************** 

He gripped her hand tightly, fingers pressing into her wrist as he let her to lead them down the corridor, away from the entrance, away from Bellatron and northern lights and adventures. Just him and her. Alone.

River let her free hand trail along the wall as they walked. She indulged in the feel of the TARDIS as it seeped into her fingertips, warm vibrations running up her arm into her chest where it swirled and swelled. The energy danced through her and out of her and into the Doctor. She snuck a glance over her shoulder, cheeks flushed as her entire body tingled, pleased to see his eyes transfixed on their joined hands as if he could see the vortex spread from her to him. His pace was quicker, mind working slicing away at possibilities, theories. River Song, Child of the Ponds, Child of the TARDIS. That added a whole new mystique, and she had to admit, she liked it, the way he looked at her now. It was so different from what she was used to. Caring yes, but there was an element of awe, like she was some magical creature he’d only ever read about. She smiled.

She led them to a very familiar, warn blue door where she stopped and turned to him, brow crooked in a silent question.

_Their_ bedroom.

  His eyes widened when he realized where they were, and he shuffled nervously, glancing at the door and back toward the control room. Lifting to her tiptoes, River pressed a chaste kiss to his lips going inside. It would be his choice to follow her.

It looked just as it always did. Large bed outfitted with plush pillows and soft cotton sheets, her vanity in the corner, cosmetics and perfume bottles scattered across the top. An Archaeology text lay upturned on the nightstand with a pair of reading glasses perched on top. There were bits of River all over the room, shoes in the corner, undergarments laid over the back of a wingback chair, a chilled cup of mint tea on the side table.

River watched him silently look around as he stepped into the room. And then his eyes returned to her, running the length of her body, curious and excited. She stepped toward him and curled her fingers around his palm, lifting it to her chest. His eyes followed the motion intently, watching as she pressed his palm against the double pulse of her hearts and covered them with her own. He swayed toward her as if drawn closer by a magnet. River was vaguely aware that her free hand clung to the tweed at his elbow, pulling him closer. She wanted to feel his breath against her curls, long to feel his temporal energy wrap around her, coaxing her own to the surface.  She felt his hand pulse softly press against her skin, first his forefinger then his middle and ring fingers. He watched as her skin gave way under the pressure, blanching under his fingertips.  His pinky slipped under the edge of her robe and pressed against the top of her breast. 

“River, this body…” his voice was thick and his eyes refused to meet hers, entranced instead where his hands touched her body “I haven’t…”

She shushed him softly, “I know.”

She could feel his energy strengthen, pulsing softly through his timeline. It was faint. She could only feel it at its peak, calling gently to her own timeline, seeking its matching rhythm. Even if River couldn’t feel it, she could see it in his eyes as they rose to search hers. And his hand slipped lower, inching over the fabric of her robe. He watched her, reading her reaction as his palm slid over her breast, over her nipple, and cradled its weight in his hand. Her eyes fell shut at his touched, lips parted as she struggled to breathe, and she could only imagine how she looked to him.  

He moved closer, if that was at all impossible, a hand pressing into her hip. And River’s hearts hammered in her chest so forcefully that she thought she might burst when she felt soft lips on the side of her neck. She swallowed a whimper at the sensation and felt his lips stretch against her. A tongue swiped across her skin and she eagerly angled her head to give him better access.

The hand at her breast twisted, slipping two fingers beneath the hem of her robe and across impossibly smooth skin. His fingers glided over her nipple, fingernail catching the soft rise and she moaned softly, threading her fingers through his hair and pulling him closer. A firm tongue ran the length of her carotid, tasting her heartbeats before rising to claim her lips. He moved more urgently now, tongue slipping between her lips and dancing around hers. He tasted like sunshine and dust, and River wondered vaguely if that was what Gallifrey smelled like as well, if that was what he tasted every time he kissed her. But the thought came and went, lost in the haze of his hands on her body and they roamed her skin, sliding down her sides, along her ribs, and over her hips, curving over the top of her backside where he pulled her into him. He moved the robe at will, opening, lifting, and lowering fabric simply to get at her skin. Her temporal energy throbbed, yearning for his and beating against the unnecessary boundaries he’d built to block the full power of his energy. She moaned in frustration. She needed _him._

They were moving toward the bed, neither one leading the other but both eager to follow when River, finally finding her own hands, began to push at the lapels of his tweed. She inched them from his shoulders and finally coaxed him to let go of her long enough to discard the jacket at their feet. When he was finally free, he broke their kiss, breath heavy as he cupped her face and stared at her with wonder. His thumbs stroked over her cheek, and she grinned, she _glowed._ Impossible man.

Hooking a finger around his bowtie, she tugged him down for a kiss before tugging the fabric free and draping it around her own neck. She slithered out of his touch, keenly aware of the Doctor’s eyes on her, as she moved toward the bed, untying the robe and letting it fall down across her back. And if she added a little sway to her hips, it was only for his encouragement. She had to admit, she was growing fonder of this robe by the second. No wonder the Doctor’s eyes had darkened when she’d first tried it on earlier in this evening.

She turned back to him, easing herself down on the foot of the bed and letting her robe fall open. The Doctor flushed instantly, turning a bright shade of red as he dropped his eyes to the floor. A hand nervously ran along the back of his neck.

But when River threw her head back and laughed his eyes instantly snapped back to her. “And what are you laughing at River Song?” He asked, glowering at her.

“You’re cute.” She hummed leaning down to massage a foot, well aware of the view she was offering him. Her pulse quickened as she watched him approach her, eyes darkened and the red faded from his face.

“That’s not exactly what I’m going for here.” He warned, bending over her so that his hands rested on either side of her on the mattress.

“Meant it with all the love, sweetie.” She grinned up at him neck bent back in order to properly see him at this angle. And there was that moment, that fraction of a second where her heart refused to beat before he claimed her lips a little more forcefully this time and she sighed into his mouth. It was him. _Her_ Doctor. She could taste it on him now, see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch, and she eagerly responded. Frantic hands rubbed and smoothed. River helped him slip the braces over his shoulders before rucking his shirt out of his trousers, pulling at buttons as he kissed her, searching for that familiar taste.  When she had most of the buttons undone, she tumbled backwards onto the bed, arms wrapped tightly around his neck and pulling him along with her.

Heat coiled and pulled taunt within her and despite the fact his body covered hers, his familiar awkward angles sliding easily against her curved, he wasn’t near close enough. Her timeline burned bright now. It scorched. Burning energy wafted from the root of her existence and faded into the air, finding no mate.  The loneliness ached. He was right here and yet he was hiding from her, blocking her out.

Pulling her mouth from his, River ran a bare leg over the backs of his thighs and up his bum, hauling him against her and grinding against him. He grunted into the side of her neck as her inner thigh pressed against the bulge in his trousers. “You won’t break me, Sweetie.” She huffed against his ear punctuating her words with a quick thrust and a wicked grin.

“Oh, you are a bad girl aren’t you?” He planted kisses to her jaw, her neck, laving at the tender skin over her collarbone. With her head thrown back, his tongue followed the curve of her bones, dipping into the hollow of her throat before sucking at the flesh. “Do you taste the same all over?” He rasped against her skin, tendrils of hot breath wrapping around her neck.

“You tell me.”

His tongue glided across her body, from her throat to her navel, leaving a trail of damp, chilled skin in its wake. He looked up at her and smile, pressing his chin into her stomach as she gently brushed at the fringe over his eyes. When he resumed his mission he pressed a kiss to the top of her hip, running his tongue along the crease of her thigh. Licking his lips, he pressed a kiss, warm and wet to her center. It took her breath away.

Her hand sought his, curling her fingers around his wrist as she lay back and stared at the midnight blue ceiling. She coaxed every sense in her body to leave her, sight, sound, everything but touch, everything but the feel of his tongue sweeping between her folds, the soft suction against at their apex, the feel of her own fingertips ghosting over her chest. And then his fingers were against her, stroking, pulling before pressing forward, occupying what had once been empty and River gasped. She arched against his touch, body instinctively pulling closer to his touch as she curled a leg firmly over his shoulder, threading her spare hand into his hair while the other grasped his wrist tightly.

His body was reaching too. She could feel it. The beat of his temporal energy was strong, bulging against the barriers and calling to hers from its imprisonment. Her timeline obeyed, bending toward him. But they were out of sync now, her timeline and her body. And while her temporal energy remained unsatisfied, her physical desire pressed on toward the brink.

 “Come on, Sweetie,” She groaned, rolling her head against the pillow and thrusting against him, “Come on, my love. Please. Just… just let go.” His fingers crooked deep within her, and her cry reverberated around the room. “Doctor,” she gasped, “Doctor!” A zap of energy flooded through her body, dragging with it a searing pain, literally stealing the breath from her lungs. Her left heart lost two beats.

Just like that she had lost his touch.

“River?” his panicked voice sliced through the fog. But he did not move toward her, he was pulling away, severing contact. Her body went numb. River struggled to sit up, her half worn robe still clinging to her shoulders, hair matted, and skin glistening with perspiration. The Doctor had pressed himself against the bedpost, as far from her as possible without getting off the bed. Now, with the walls broken and the energy running free through his body, she could see the faint blue glow emanating from his skin. She moved toward him.

“River, stop. I could kill you,” he held up a hand in protest and she obeyed, “our connection is too much. I can’t repress my energy.” He was shaking, barely, though from the intensity of his energy burst or with concern for her, she didn’t know.

She smiled, giving a soft shake of her head and his brow furrowed in confusion. “You don’t have to repress it.” Gently, she leaned forward, cupping his face in her hands, and garnered his energy to unleash her own. A thin red glow encapsulated her hand where it touched his face and traveled up her arms, shoulders, down her back and torso until her entire body bled a thin red glow. His eyes widened as the watched the transformation, flares of red and blue lifting from their skin and binding in the air around them, the fusion sending a sharp jolt to their timeline. “You can’t hurt me darling. I’m not _that_ human. But don’t let’s try to give me all your energy at once, yea?” She punctuated her words with a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, a little of her energy crackling against his skin like electricity.

He was examining her when she sat back, hands ghosting over her shoulders, neck, face, watching the red arch and bend to him. And how long has it been seen he’d seen that? “You’re not possible.” He whispered, watching the energy radiate off her skin. “You shouldn’t even exist.”

“Yet,” she smiled, “here I am.”

He kissed her again and she could feel it now, full and unadulterated. His timeline pulsed, swelling outside its normal size sending calls to her. It wrapped and twisted around them as he lowered her back onto the bed, covering her body with his own. Hands stroked along her thighs, her sides, her breasts. They were firm and soft, beckoning to her. She panted against his mouth, flicking her tongue out to swipe against his bottom lip as she moved underneath him, spreading her legs to cradle his hips. He moaned softly as she glided rough teeth down over the curve of his chin, swirling her tongue over the tiny stubble. His skin was salty and electric. And she hooked her nose under his jaw, nuzzling into the hollow of his neck, sucking at the soft skin, guiding nails over his shoulders and down the front of his chest. He gave a frustrated grunt, hips restlessly pressing into her. His energy licked at her skin, seeping into her pores and racing through her blood stream. His essence, made from all he had done and all he would do, coursing through her veins. She burned for him, burned with him and lowered shaking hands between them, tugging at the button of his trousers as he peppered her face, neck, and chest with kisses. She paused momentarily in her haste to capture his mouth, sharing a gloriously electric kiss before he broke away, breathing heavily.

“Need…” she whimpered breathlessly, fingers returning to their endeavor. He grunted into her curls in response as fingers wrapped around hers, claiming her mission as his own. Leaving the task to him, her attentions turned to tugging the shirt from his shoulders, and when he was finally free of his trouser and pants she snaked a hand between them, cupping him in her palm and running firm fingers along his length.

            “River,” he groaned, dropping his head to her shoulders and pressing a flat palm against the brace himself.

He entered her, filling, stretching her and River sighed as her whole body ignited. The thrumming of him through her veins grew stronger, beating a rhythm that bent her body to his, synching their hearts. The energy flowed freely between then, his and hers mingling inseparable.

Their bodies warmed at the transfer wherever they touched. Her hands on his back, cupped around his arse. His hand kneading her breast, clutching her hip.  His face pressed to her neck, gasping into her skin. Between her legs. Deep within her.

Their time lines arched and around one another, a tightening knot. She whispered into his ear, words of pleasure and encouragement. Words of love. And if he realized that she spoke to him in Gallifrey, he never said.

He set a firm rhythm which she eagerly matched, rolling her hips to meet his thrusts and rewarding him with a breathless keen every time he reached that sensitive spot inside her. It was a challenge he readily accepted, pulling himself up to his forearms and slowing their rhythm to a near impossible pace. Their energies reacted in kind, embracing a loose dance and sending flares of red and blue that absorbed into bursts of purple, each one sending rivulets of ecstasy through their bodies.

The Doctor hung his head over her, eyes dark and greedy. “Impossible. You are impossible,” he muttered, whispering kisses across her lips.

River gasped on a particularly thorough stroke, and readily accepted his kisses as she hitched her leg high on his hip. Her head swam with him and her body cried for more. “Nothing is impossible for you, my love,” she panted, hand falling from his back and slipping between her legs. But before she found her solace a hand wrapped tightly around her wrist, pulling it away. He curled her fingers over the back of his neck before returning to his prize.

His fingers on her clit, the new sensation of his energy entering through this new connection, at her most sensitive spot, set up body alight. She threw head back, golden curls splaying around her head like a halo. “More…” she cried, fingernails digging into his skin. He obliged.

Their energies moved faster now pumping through their veins, seeping into their hearts, their lungs. And their timeline tightened around one another, knotting themselves, drawing their bodies closer together, closer to one. Suddenly, they fused. River’s eyes squeezed shut, tears seeping from the corners, as two timelines became one. Two energies merged into the most brilliant shade of purple in the universe. For a fraction of a second there was one heartbeat, one mind, one cry before it all began to unravel.

The Doctor collapsed on top of her, and River welcomed the burden, wrapping arms and legs around him in an attempt to prolong their unity. Their muscles shuddered as the alien energy receded from them, leaving behind a satisfied hum as their heart rates dropped. Their bodies called back their own energy and it obeyed, returning to them with the essence of the other which they would carry which course through them for hours. Then, once divided enough, the Doctor rolled from her, sprawling across the bed onto his back, glazed eyes staring at the ceiling. She watched him, trying to read the thoughts coursing through his mind, and finding herself, strangely enough, unable to do so. It was unsettling. And for a moment, for a brief second, doubt blossomed in her chest. But then the Doctor’s head lulled in her direction, that lopsided grin and those dark eyes shining only for her. No remorse, no regret. And my, when he looked at her like that she felt like she could do anything.

She turned over on her side, head resting in her palm and the Doctor’s smile grew wider. Pensively she reached out and brushed fingers over the edge of his shoulder and he watched her, his hand reverently curling around the silk fabric still clung to her shoulders as it fell across her body. “I _really_ like this now.” He whispered and River laughed, a deep hearty laugh that ached muscles already sore. She pressed her face into his chest, sighing at the feel of his fingers threading through her curls and she didn’t have to look at him to know he was smiling too. Before she realized what was happening he was peeling the silk from her damp skin, replacing it with a soft blanket that he tucked around them to keep the chill out. She shivered anyway. They lay like that for a long time, her armed wrapped around his waist, lost in the sound of four beating hearts. River’s body slowly grew heavy the way it always did when they used their energy. She was, after all, still human.

She watched, half asleep already as he levitated a hand over her arm, flares of blue teaching at the translucent hair, making them stand on end. Rolling her hand, she released her last wisp of red to go in search of its match. “We’re the only place in the universe it still exists.” She said, watching the last of their energies blend and flare into a dancing purple orb. She sighed, sagging further into him. “That’s what you told me my first time.”

They were a pair, the two of them. “I never thought I’d experience this again. I’d forgotten what it was like.” His fingers made long stroked down her spine and her eyes grew heavy at the rhythmic touch. Even then, River was vaguely aware that his head turned toward her, a hand brushing her hair out of his face.

“That good, eh?”

“Vain.” She mumbled, nestling against him.

He hummed and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, “sleep, my River. I’ll be here when you wake.”

 ***************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

River woke to the smell of tea and toast, eggs and sausage, all wafting from a steaming tray on the bedside table. She stretched, wringing out strained but thoroughly sated muscles as she blinked her eyes open. The Doctor was standing on the other side of the room, clad in a horrendous blue paisley dressing gown, hair mussed and a piece of toast clutched between his teeth. He was bent over her vanity, examining the items that littered the top with careful precision, pausing to pick up every couple of bottles and examine it in the dimmed TARDIS light. River rolled onto her stomach, the bed sheet pulling down to the edge of her tailbone as she fluffed her pillow over her arms and watched him.

He had never seen his room like this before, with her things tucked into corners, piled on the nightstand, laying on the vanity or hanging in the closet. Of course he hadn’t and River was keenly aware that this was a turning point. This was his beginning in earnest and she felt a thrill thinking of all the things he had to come, even as she felt a pang wondering how many she had left.

The Doctor’s fingers brushed along a delicate bottle, engraved crystal with starlight silver liquid splashing in the bottom. He took a pensive bite from his toast and he examined it.

“You bought that for me on Minerva.” She said, her soft voice breaking the silence. The TARDIS lights brightened some. “It’s your favorite. You’ve always said that it reminded you of our first night together.”

His eyes flickered to hers in the mirror, then back down at the bottle in his hand. “Yours or mine?”

She sighed, “Mine, I always assumed.” Then added a soft “spoilers.” He smiled then, perhaps the first time he had ever smiled at that word and he turned to her, the bottle still in his hand. She silently gestured to him with her wrist.

In two steps he was at her bedside, sitting on the edge as the rolled over and situated herself onto her back. The sheet fell down to her waist and he flushed, averting his eyes from her. River chuckled softly, plucking the half eaten toast from his hands and taking a bite, because she knew, 500 years from now, the tops of his ears would still burn red when he saw her topless.

She sprawled her arm over his lap, contently nibbling on his toast as he gingerly uncapped the bottle and dabbed the silvery liquid onto the soft skin on the inside of her wrist. She held her breath when he bent his head, sniffing at the scent before placing a firm kiss to her pulse.

“You’re right,” he said, pressing gentle kisses up the length of her arm, over the curve of her shoulder. She hummed at the contact.

“About?” He hovered over her, lips so close to hers that she could feel them brush when she spoke.

“It does feel like coming home.” He captured her lips for his own, and their breakfast was left, forgotten and cooling on the table.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! First, I would like to thank you all for reading and sticking around until the end. I had been toying around with writing the Doctor's first time with River for a very long time, but it got a little more... explicit that what I'm used to. Of course, I just decided to go with it, but I would LOVE to know what you thought!


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